


It's Halloween

by AlysanneBlackwood



Series: Holidays [1]
Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Gen, Halloween, I didn't want to hurt Rich or Jake so I used him instead, I'm very sorry Dustin, Jeremy's a zombie, Michael's a vampire, My attempts at writing gore, Poor Dustin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-31
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-27 06:42:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12575984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlysanneBlackwood/pseuds/AlysanneBlackwood
Summary: “But hunger has a way with youThere’s no telling what you’re gonna doWhen the chips are downNow that the chips are down.”--The Fates, HadestownA terrifying tale of friendship, the supernatural, and hunger.





	It's Halloween

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, guys, gals, and non-binary pals! I hope you enjoy this lovely story I have cooked up!
> 
> This story was inspired by Rob Rokicki's song "Blood and Brains" from his musical Monstersongs (which is amazing, go listen to it), and Karyn Kusama and Diablo Cody's film Jennifer's Body.

_09 October 2017_

The man at Spencer’s Gifts asks to talk to Michael in private.  He’s hungry, he says.  He needs to feed.  Is it alright if he…?  Michael knows what he wants.  To be honest, it’s not an impossible decision.  Michael says yes.  This guy has been hooking him up with supposedly extinct soft drinks for years.  The least he can do is pay him back; and after all, being an undead creature is just plain cool.  

The man’s fangs shine pale in the dim light of the stockroom.  When they sink into his neck, Michael shudders and relaxes into his grasp.  It doesn’t hurt so much after a few seconds.  

***

_11 October 2017_

Jeremy never sees the car coming.  He barely hears a shouted curse before his world crashes to black.

***

_18 October 2017_

He’s standing in front of an unmarked, messily opened grave (makes sense, he won’t get a stone till next year).  Jeremy raises his hands to his face and moves his fingers.  He’s alive…?  He thinks he’s alive.  And he’s hungry.  Where to now?  

Not to his house.  His father will have a heart attack if he finds out that his recently late son is risen from the grave.  To Michael’s, then.  If anyone’s going to believe what just happened to him, it’ll be Michael.

Michael makes a strangled screaming noise when he sees Jeremy in his doorway.  His eyes are bloodshot and puffy and he looks sick.  He grabs Jeremy and forces him up the stairs.  He wants to know everything.  Jeremy explains that he woke up standing aboveground and his grave had been opened.  Michael moves around Jeremy, inspecting him from all sides (after hugging him until Jeremy can’t breathe, naturally).  Jeremy look kind of green, he notes.  Jeremy looks in the mirror.  He’s as pale as usual, but there’s a green hue to his skin.  What is he, he wonders to himself aloud.

He must be a zombie, Michael announces.  That’s the only explanation.  Michael grins.  Now he can tell, he says, and opens his mouth.  Jeremy peers inside.  Michael has fangs, two teeth on either side of his mouth elongated and sharpened to wicked points.  A vampire, Jeremy guesses.  Michael nods.  Fantastic.  They’re undead together.  Jeremy asks if Michael is hungry too, and Michael says yes.  They know what they’re hungry for.  Unfortunately for them, what they need can’t be acquired easily.

***

_30 October 2017_

“Dustin Kropp wants weed,” Michael says, walking up to Jeremy in the hallway.  “I just heard him complaining to Mark Jackson about it.  He’s out.  He needs his fix, and his dealer just upped the price.”  

“You’re gonna give it to him for cheap?”

“Mm-hm.”  They share a look, their eyes gleaming in anticipation.  The noises that gurgle and rumble beneath their shirts have been going on for an inching, torturous time.  They can’t keep the hunger at bay much longer; should they wait they’ll be attacking the next person who walks near them.  No.  This has to be planned.  They’ve been waiting to find someone.  He’s perfect--he isn’t too popular, doesn’t have too many friends--oh sure, people will miss him, but it’s not like the cops will ever suspect them.  Alright, he’s harassed them, but only once in awhile--there’s sure to be other, more obvious suspects.  Besides, he won’t die instantly. They’ll keep him alive, within their reach.  If they do this right and don’t accidentally eat and/or drink him to death.

(Honestly, they had a faint outline of a plan until now and they know they’re getting lucky.  For the gods’ sakes, Michael’s first idea was to proposition someone for sex because he saw it in a movie his sister made him watch once.  Jeremy vetoed it because, as Michael later agreed, no one would ever want to have sex with a loser like both of them.)

“Hey,” Michael hisses to Dustin, sidling up to him.  “I hear you’re out of weed?”

“Yeah, so?”  Dustin glares at him.  He doesn’t know why Mell is talking to him--he’s got a reputation to maintain and that doesn’t involve talking to loser stoner kids where everyone can see.

“I’ve got some.  A whole stash, in my basement.  It’ll cost you ten bucks.  And that’s a bargain--it’s high-quality.”

Dustin’s eyebrows raise.  Triumph shoots through Michael.  He’s intrigued.  This will be way too easy.  “You want the money tomorrow morning?”

“No.  Meet me at the abandoned house on Mason.  We could get in serious trouble for this; I don’t want to do it in public.  Deal?”

“Deal.”  Dustin turns on his heel and walks towards his first class.

When Michael rejoins Jeremy, all it takes is seeing the gleam in his eye to know there’s been a success.  Jeremy’s stomach growls again.  Just a little longer.  Tomorrow night.  Then everything’ll be better.

***

_31 October 2017_

The air inside the old house is thick with temptation; everything is ever so near for all three of them.  Dustin thinks he can smell the drug when he walks through the door.  The others, waiting in the dark, know they can smell the tantalizing scent of what lies beneath fragile flesh and bone.  

Michael slips from his corner and melts out of the darkness, the prop clutched in his fist.  “Here.  I kept my end.  You?”

“Got it.”  Dustin fishes around in his pockets and comes up with two crumpled five-dollar bills.  He presses them into Michael’s hand.  That’s all Michael needs to grab him and drag him into the depths of the building (strength is one of the advantages of his transformation).  When he reaches the farthest room on the first floor, a cobwebbed kitchen, Jeremy looks up from where he sits atop the dusty table.  His skin shines, greenish-white and eerie, against the darkness.

“What are you doing?” Dustin yells, struggling.  “Let me go!  God, are you both crazy or something?”

Michael pins him against the ground, mounting his hips in a grotesque parody of seduction.  “We’re not gonna kill you.  We want some stuff from you.  If you comply, we won’t bother you again, okay?”  It’s a lie, but they’re doing what they must to survive.

Dustin swallows.  “Are you gonna hurt me?”

“Only for a minute.”  Jeremy kneels beside him.  “Then it won’t feel like anything.  We promise.”

“O-okay.”  He’s terrified, they can see it in his eyes.  He thinks that if he goes along with it, everything will be just peachy.  Thank whatever god is out there, he bought it!  They exchange a look, trying to be discreet so he doesn’t see the relief and triumph in their eyes.  And they begin.

Dustin gasps and convulses when Michael leans down and plunges his fangs into his jugular vein.  And then it’s there: passing in between his lips, slipping across his tongue, running down his throat in hot rivers, and oh god, it feels so goddamn _good_ to finally feed.  

Jeremy removes one of the neurological tools Michael stole from his mother’s office from his pocket and presses it against Dustin’s skull.  Just a few cuts.  That’s all it should take.  Letting out a shaky breath, he cuts deep.  Dustin shrieks in surprise and pain.  “Shhh!” Jeremy hisses.  He doesn’t need noise making him more nervous.  Another cut.  No, go deeper, he’s not getting past the skull.  And another.  And another.  He removes the medium-sized panel of flesh and bone and lays it on the floor.  Blood trickles in a dark stream across the old floorboards from Dustin’s head.  Dustin sees the piece of himself out of the corner of his eye, screams dreadfully, and beats his fists against Michael’s chest, trying to push him off so he can get Jeremy away too, but it is of no use.  Carefully, Jeremy reaches inside the entrance and tugs at what’s inside.  His hand comes out bearing a decent-sized piece of grey matter.  He barely looks at it before starting to chew on it.  It’s watery and doesn’t have much taste, but good god, he hasn’t eaten in ages and the feeling of it sliding down his throat is so fucking _good._

Dustin has gone completely limp beneath them, his eyes glassy but his chest still rising and falling.  They continue in their meal; Michael never lifting his head, drinking in never-ending amounts, Jeremy’s fingers scrabbling eagerly inside the skull, plucking out more and more matter and practically inhaling it.  They don’t try to conceal the sounds they make: wordless groans of satisfaction echo around the dark walls.  Blood endlessly pools outwards from Dustin’s neck and skull, continually merging from tiny streams and creeks into a long, thick river.

When at last Michael slides his teeth carefully from the two minuscule punctures he created,  he tips his head back and sucks down air, coming down from the ecstatic high of drinking.  Warmth spreads through his veins and he no longer feels so numb; instead, he feels more alive than he has in weeks.  Nothing can be better than that.  Nothing.  Proven fact.  Sitting back on his heels, he watches Jeremy finish up shortly after.  They smile at each other, blood dripping from Michael’s lips, pieces of cerebral matter stuck every which way in Jeremy’s teeth.  Jeremy’s coming down from his own high; his chest is heaving desperately and his entire body feels like it’s on vibrate rather than the numbness he’s experienced the past week.  He hasn’t felt like this since the time… well, he’s not sure he’s ever felt so alive before.  They’re near ready to collapse and sleep off their dinner, but there are matters to be attended to first.  They clean the blood from the floor, having dragged along a bucket and a mop.  They replace the panel of flesh and bone, secured with an exceptionally sharp needle and thread (it takes longer than they would have liked, but then again, they are dealing with a skull).  They make sure that Dustin is still breathing.  Then, taking him with them, they go up the stairs to one of the bedrooms.  The bed is old and creaky, but it is of no matter.  Propping and tying Dustin in a rocking chair (they can’t having him escaping while they sleep), they fall atop the bed, nestle in each other’s newly warm arms, and sleep, the stabbing pinpricks of hunger no longer keeping them awake.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Constructive criticism appreciated!


End file.
